The Right Side of Wrong
by SNN
Summary: You've got the Smirking Pansy, an angry George, and an emancipation. Throw in some Dasey and you've got a sequel! Sequel to "So Wrong, But So Right."
1. Can't Deny This Feeling

**A/N: **Hey guys! Umm... this chapter is basically Dasey fluff... actually, the entire story's foundation is Dasey fluff. So yeah.

Anyways, I hope you like it! Reviews are greatly appreciated! :D

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**The Right Side of Wrong**  
Chapter 1: **Can't Deny This Feeling**

I lay there in my bed, legs tangled with the sheets and her silky smooth stems, thinking about how lucky I was. I mean, who would have thought that Casey MacDonald, the smart, beautiful, and feisty girl of my dreams – really she was, I dream about her a _lot_ – was with me, Derek Venturi, the coolest guy in school, slacker, and the jerk of her nightmares, would have chosen _me?_

Ah, join me in my happy dance, people. Join me.

I looked at her sleeping face, taking in every shadow and crevice, the line of her cheekbones, the way her mouth was open slightly, making me want to kiss her all the more.

She stirred in her sleep, cuddling closer to me in my not-very-loose hold on her. I buried my nose in her hair, absorbing her scent, memorizing it forever. _Vanilla with jasmine._

Okay, so it's a little odd that I know what jasmine smells like, with my being a guy and all. But after you've taken a shower with a certain person a few times, you tend to notice what shampoo they use. Well, that is when you're not busy doing something else. Hehe...

"Mmm, baby?" Casey asked in a groggy voice. She still sounded sexy.

"Yeah?" I awaited her response.

"Would you just kiss me and get it over with? I can feel you staring at me and it's making it hard to sleep under your pretty brown eyes," she said, slowly bringing her blue orbs to meet my brown.

"Well, if you insist," I said with a smirk and captured her lips. She smiled against my mouth and let out a moan as our tongues mingled. She pulled away slowly and didn't open her eyes. To my surprise, she didn't even say anything, just laid her head down on my chest and went back to sleep. Letting out a chuckle, I soon went to sleep, too.

It's been about three months since Casey and I were official. I keep the story that I wrote under my bed, tied together with a ribbon from Casey. She said that we should have it published – when we're legal, she meant. See, we haven't told anyone, well, with the exception of the student body. But that was only to tell people to back off. The family doesn't know, and we intend to keep it that way until we're eighteen. That way they – they being Nora and Dad, I'm pretty sure that Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti wouldn't care enough to try and break us up – couldn't do anything about it. They could be bitter, sure; happy, I'm all for it; angry, whatever; nothing could be done to tear us apart.

She comes into my room almost every night after everyone has gone to sleep, or when she thinks that everyone is. I remember one time – this was when it was an every night kind of thing - she told me that she was going to my room, but Lizzie had just come out of the bathroom and asked her what she was doing. She said that she said she was just going to the bathroom, but she forgot where she was going. Lizzie had given her a strange look, but let it pass. We don't meet every single night anymore.

We tried to keep up the bickering, but it was too much stress. When Nora and Dad questioned us, we simply replied that we were tired of it. It never got us anywhere, anyway. Just venting a few frustrations out – which were now solved with some rough kisses and general, erm, roughness.

I unconsciously pulled her closer to me, almost afraid she wouldn't be there if I opened my eyes. I felt her snuggle into me and I smiled like a goof.

I can't believe this is real.

I'm gonna hold on forever.


	2. Back Off, Fool

**A/N: **Thanks for all of your encouraging reviews! They mean so much to me! xD

(Btw, for those of you who have read "Betrayal," the guy in here is the one on there.)

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Chapter 2: **Back Off, Fool**

I let out a moan as my hand mindlessly reached for the cause of my agony. The beeping noise finally went away and I closed my eyes once again.

I heard a giggle, "Derek, you have to wake up. You can't sleep all day today; Mom and George are coming home soon." My eyes slowly opened, much to my displeasure. Although the sight I saw made me want to stay awake forever: Casey. "Good morning," she said sweetly, and pecked me on the lips.

I smiled, "Good morning to you, too." She smiled back at me and searched around my room, looking for her clothing that had been scattered about the night before. "Good luck trying to find anything. I haven't cleaned in _weeks_," I said, propping up on both elbows. She continued her search.

"Believe me, I know," she said, turning to give me a knowing look. I smirked and fell back on the bed.

"What time are they supposed to get back again?" I asked, relaxing my eyes again. Sleep is very tiring, you know.

"Uh, I think about ten? Maybe twelve-ish?" Casey said, pulling on her underwear and bra. I got up, completely naked, and sauntered over to her seductively. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow (she's really good at that, I've noticed) and waited for me to reach her completely.

"You know, I've been considering this whole 'us' thing," I began. Her eyes widened, and I smirked inwardly. "What do you think about..." She nodded, trying to get me to spit it out. " ...never leaving this bedroom again?" Casey looked utterly relieved. Then she looked angry. Uh-oh, run away, Derek! Run _away!_

"Don't do that!" She cried, hitting my arm harshly.

"Don't do what?" I gulped.

"Act like you're going to break up with me," she said, looking down. My eyes softened and I put my finger under her chin, making her look at me.

"Hey – I was only joking. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Casey MacDonald. Don't you ever forget that, okay?" I said, looking into her eyes.

She smiled and nodded, looking as if she were about to say something, but was cut off by a kiss landing directly on her mouth. I've learned that that is one way to make her shut up. She was shocked at first, but gave into the kiss, giving off as mush passion as I was. Her hands went to the back of my neck, playing with the little twirls of hair. My hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to me.

I slowly began to walk back towards the bed, hoping she wouldn't notice. She didn't. She just followed me unconsciously, wanting more of the kiss. I began to unclasp her bra, and she pulled away.

"Why, you sly dog," she drew out and reached back to re-hook her bra. "Do you even know what time it is?" When I gave her a confused look, she sighed and looked around my room, obviously still looking for her barrings. Her eyes lit up, and she began to speak as she bent over, pulling on her pants. "It's 9:30, Derek. _You_ need to take a shower, and I have to take care of some things."

"Things?" I asked. "What things?"

"Derek, have you no memory? Last night, the couch, the kitchen, the hallway... Need I say more?" She said, recalling our night of passion downstairs. Somehow we had made it up to my room, but I'm not too sure how we did that.

"Oh," was my simple reply. She smiled at me and I melted.

"Okay, Mr. Procrastinator, go take a shower before I have to give you one," she said, shoving me out towards the bathroom. Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti had all gone with Dad and Nora when they went to visit some distant cousin over the weekend.

I turned around, flashing my perfect, pearly-whites, "Oh, really?"

Her smile dropped and she shoved me the rest of the way into the bathroom. "Go. Get clean," she said forcefully, closing the door on my still-smirking face. I sighed, remembering I'd forgotten my clothes (sound familiar?), and I knew that with my recent luck that when I got out of the shower everyone would be home. I cautiously opened the door, making sure Casey wasn't in the hallway.

_Damn_, she's fast. This hallway was absolutely covered with trash and such not five minutes ago. It's practically sparkling.

Okay, the coast is clear. I bolted into my room and frantically searched for clothes. Wow, I really _do_ need to clean up in here.

I found a pair of boxers and pants, deciding that that would do for now. Checking the hallway once more, I dashed into the bathroom and locked the door.

Phew!

Turning on the hot water, I climbed into the shower, slowly adjusting to the temperature of the water. I closed my eyes and just absorbed the water, enjoying the feel of it running over my body, reminding me of Casey's skilled hands.

Beginning to become aroused, I turned the hot water off and flicked the cold on, full blast. I picked up the soap and began to bathe.

...this is really, really cold. Okay, Derek, time to get out of the freezing cold water before you hyperventilate.

I grabbed a towel and dried off quickly. I want some more alone time with Casey before the 'relatives' come. Hmm, I wonder if Casey found her shirt yet...

"Kids! We're home!" Aw, man! They just had to come _now_, didn't they? I pulled on my pants and went into my room, trying to find a shirt.

Aha! This should do. So what if it's a little dirty – it's not like it was in my dirty clothes basket. In fact, it still smells good. No one but Casey will be able to tell, if you get my meaning.

Hey! I'm a guy – lay off. All I think about is sex! Sheesh!

"Derek! Get down here!" my dad called.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," I mumble-shouted, coming downstairs.

"Smerek!" Marti called, running up to me and squeezing the life out of me.

"Smarti! Good to see you, too," but could you possibly not cut off my circulation? Dude, I'm losing the feeling in my legs. I gently tugged her off of me and scrubbed her head. She smiled at me with her 'Grinch Smile', as I like to call it, and ran upstairs.

"Hey, Derek, no parties?" Dad asked.

I rolled my eyes, "No parties, Dad." Well, the kind of party that he's talking about, at least.

"Good, this means you get to live," he said, and patted me on the back with a smile. I gave a forced smile and greeted everyone else, then went back upstairs. Where was Casey? She certainly had time to clean up the _whole_ entire house before they got here, that's for sure.

Entering my room, I realized that it wasn't messy anymore.

_What in the world?_

Then I saw her. She was sitting on my bed, reading a magazine.

"You know Derek, you really should hide these better. Marti could easily come in here and see them," she said, gesturing towards my _Sports Illustrated_ magazines.

I smirked, "Geez, Case, it's not like she's not going to have them anyway." Then I realized what I had just said. Ah! Mental image! Ah! "Okay, I take that back."

Casey laughed at the face I was making and pecked me on my cheek. "Wow, not even a 'thanks' for cleaning? Some boyfriend you are," she said, trailing off and making a sad face.

Oh, she's _evil. _She knows I can't fight the sad face... I sighed, "Thanks, Casey. And, I know, aren't I the best?" Take that, sad face.

She quirked an eyebrow and shoved me playfully in the arm. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." And walked out.

0o

I woke up on Monday morning, realizing that my weekend of bliss was over and I would have to go back to school. Ick.

After my shower (a hot one, for once), I traveled downstairs to get some breakfast. Mmm, I smell Nora's eggs. Now, they're not as good as Casey's (I really don't know what the difference is; I guess I could just have a psychological predisposition that Casey's eggs are better), but they're pretty darn good.

I grabbed a plate – no, not the pan (gasp) – and sat down in my usual seat at the table. Casey's eyes smiled at me secretively, and I smirked.

Wow, I love smirking. It just gives off so many expressions: sarcasm, happy-ish-ism, annoyed-ism... Ah, the possibilities of the smirk.

Okay, I'm getting off track here, sorry.

"Eggs?" Nora asked, holding out the pan full of yellow deliciousness. I nodded vigorously and awaited my breakfast. Nora smiled and gave me some, then continued with trying to convince Edwin, Lizzie, Casey, and Marti to eat some eggs. I laughed inwardly, knowing that her mission was hopeless.

When I was finished eating, I told Casey to hurry up, "'cause I'm not waiting for you" (which I really would, but remember, we're "not together") and went outside and got in my car. I had finally picked my grades up enough to where they let me take Driver's Ed, and had passed with flying colors. After much persuasion I had managed to convince my dad to me a car. Casey said she didn't really want a car, even though she could drive. Dad had to force me to let her drive my car every now and then (even though the fight was totally fake; okay, not completely, I love this car).

The car is an '89 Mustang, and I love, love, love it. It has this beat up, vintage look, which makes me love it even more. Oh, and it's _blue. _Obsessed? Me?... Nah, of course not... Maybe just a little...

Running my hands along the leather-like dashboard, I admired how nicely I had managed to keep it clean. In complete contrast to my room, of course. Casey says that sometimes she thinks that I love the car more than her – to which I reply "Never, babe. I'm in love with you, I just desperately love this car." She always hits me on my arm after that and turns on the radio. Heh, my bad.

Not long after I had turned the engine on did Casey plop in the car and smile at me. "Admiring the car again, sweetie?"

I smiled back, "As always. Though it is no competition for you." Good save, Der.

She just let out a small laugh and turned on the radio, which had my Metallica CD in it, causing her face to form a disgusted look. "Ugh, I still can't believe you listen to this," she said, looking at me in disbelief.

I smirked yet again, "And I can't believe some of the things that you listen to. Give it a chance, Case." She gave me a skeptical look, then leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms.

"Fine. But only this once," she said, pointing a finger at me and narrowing her eyes. I rolled my eyes and kissed her finger.

"That's it, just give in."

She pulled her finger away, "Just drive, Derek."

I smiled at her stubbornness and drove off.

We soon arrived at the school, and Casey and I could officially be free for a little while – well, without worrying about an early return from the MacDonald/Venturi clan. I put my arm around her waist and smiled at the way she just perfectly fit with me. A blind man could see it.

But, if a blind man could see it, then how come this fool obviously can't? I mean, he's looking at Casey like a piece of meat! I can practically _see_ the thoughts going through his head. Wait – I don't recognize him, who _is_ he?

"Hey, Casey?" I asked, leaning down slightly so only she could hear.

"Yeah?" She looked up at me with her stunning blue eyes.

"Come here," I said, pulling her over to my locker so her back was to it. Before she could question my actions, I kissed her. She reacted immediately and began to come back with just about as much passion as I could. I ran my tongue along the bottom of her lip and she granted me entrance and our tongues massaged the other. She ran her fingers through my hair, and I pulled her closer to me, losing myself in the kiss.

I made _sure_ that the fool who was drooling over what he saw, showing my territory. I can break my own rules against PDA when necessary.

And before you get into that, let me explain. Uh... no, that would take too long. Short version: he's trying to scope out Casey, and Casey is mine. Simple as that. I don't mean that Casey is just a piece of meat, but territory was the only word that would come to mind to describe my actions. Well, besides just wanting to kiss her.

I pulled away slowly, and I saw Casey's eyes flutter open and she smiled at me. I smiled back.

Okay, I'm an official sap.

Oh, well. At least I'm a happy sap.


	3. What'sHisFace

**A/N: **Thanks for the really great reviews! Hehe... I made Derek pointedly obnoxious when it comes to Smirking Pansy, so... yeah. Anyways, I hope you like it!

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Chapter 3: **What's-His-Face**

Okay, you remember that fool that was goggling over Casey? Yeah, well, he's the new kid, and although I can't remember his name to save my life, I know his face.

Oh yeah, he's the typical pretty boy: short black hair that falls in his 'oh-so-dreamy' ocean blue eyes, tall - about my height – and built – only a little, though. I bet I could take him. Years of hockey will do that to you.

Guess what? He's in _all_ my _freakin _classes! Argh! Oh, and he sits in the front row like the perfect little teacher's pet, answering all of the questions, helping the other students in the class... And he wants Casey. Want to know how I know? Because in English (the only class I have with her), he was all over her! Sweet talking, flashing charming smiles that would make any girl melt (except my Casey; yes, _my_ Casey), and he even tried to carry her books!

And what I don't get is how this boy can't take a hint. I practically had to shove him off of Casey and even then he turned around and gave a smile. Oh, I wanna punch him _so_ bad. My fingers are just _itching_ to scar up that pretty little face of his. The pansy. I bet he wouldn't even fight me back.

So, what's a guy to do in this situation? Lay down the law. Which I did, and not too kindly, in fact.

_I was talking to Casey at her locker before second period when this idiot came up to talk to her. She turned around and gave him a polite smile, then went back to talking to me. He kept on trying. _

"_So, what's your name?" he asked, trying to be charming. Okay, so he was succeeding, but it was sickening. _

_Casey told me to hold on a second, then turned to get him to leave. "I'm Casey. And I'm kinda busy right now, so, could you, you know, leave?" she said, trying to be polite and forceful at the same time. _

"_Mitch. And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime. Get to know each other..." he trailed off, raising a suggestive eyebrow. _

_I scoffed, "Are you seriously trying to hook up with my girl?" I approached him, a deadly stare on my face. _

"_Well, what are you going to do about it if I am?" he said, approaching me as well. _

_I got up in his face, "Believe me when I say, you don't _want _to know."_

"_Why don't you enlighten me?" he provoked. _

_Just when I was about to reply, Casey took me by my arm and dragged me to our English class._

_I groaned, "Casey, I was about to beat his face in! Besides, you don't need anymore hidden bruises," I said, referring to the hickeys all over her. She blushed, then went to take her seat. I followed suit and began brooding. I became even more upset when that-that _guy_ got to sit beside of Casey because the stupid teacher told him to. I _hate_ that teacher. He kept leaning over to talk to Casey, and she would politely smile and turn back to pay attention to the stupid lecture that the stupid teacher was stupidly giving. He threw a note to Casey, and I saw her open it, and I read over her shoulder (I got to sit behind her, thankfully). _

_Oh, that pervert!_

Dear Casey,

I think we should get together sometime. Have a little fun, if you know what I mean.

Mitch

_He... is going... to _die!

_Casey quickly wrote something and threw it to him, all in a matter of seconds. He smirked. Hey – that's _my_ thing! He's pressing one too many buttons..._

_He scribbled something back and tossed it over. The note now read:_

Dear Casey,

I think we should get together sometime. Have a little fun, if you know what I mean.

Mitch

SCREW YOU!

Exactly.

_Casey made an offended noise, and I jumped out of my seat, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt. I heard everyone gasp, and the stupid teacher told me to sit down, but I _really_ didn't care. I drew back my fist and punched him square on his jaw. _

"_Mr. Venturi! To the office!" I heard the stupid teacher scream. _

"_You _stay away_ from her, do you hear me?" I ordered him. He didn't get the chance to reply, however, because I punched him again, in the exact same place as before – I wanted him to bleed._

_Next thing I know, I'm being pulled away and into the office I was thrown._

So here I sit, waiting for the stupid principle to take time off of his stupid schedule and give me my stupid punishment.

Yeah, I'm a little bitter.

I still can't remember his name...

"So, Mr. Venturi, what do you have to say for yourself?" Mr. Turner, the stupid principle, asked when I had sat down across from him in his stupid office. "Choose your words wisely, Derek. What you say can either make you or break you," he warned. I restrained an irritated scoff.

"The guy made me mad, so I punched him." So I have a few anger issues, sue me.

"_Derek," _Mr. Turner said, his tone grating on my nerves.

Be careful, Turner, I've still got some pretty dangerous bottled-up anger left in me.

"Yes, Mr. Turner?" I said, my tone stating that I, too, was not one to be reckoned with.

"Could you try and be a little less vague?"

"I'm sure I could, but that doesn't mean that I will," I said, looking him squarely in the eye.

"Would you prefer to talk to someone else? May I suggest the guidance counselor, Paul?" he asked, and for just about the first time since I'd arrived at school today I felt my anger tone down a bit. Don't ask why - I don't know, either. It just, went away, I guess.

I shrugged, "Sure, why not?" He nodded and I grabbed my bag, heading to Paul's office.

When I entered, I found a surprise: Casey. She must've gotten a pass from a certain stupid teacher of mine. I wonder what they're talking about? Well, since they haven't noticed me...

I ducked back, leaving the door open a crack so I could hear.

" ...and then he punched him. _Again," _she ranted. Paul looked a little flustered.

"Well, Casey, it seems Derek was quite angry. Maybe if you told me why that made him so angry..." he trailed off.

"Oh, well, I guess I could tell you. You see-"

"Whoa, what's going on in here?" I said, entering the room, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Casey had almost spilled our secret.

"Derek? What are you doing here? Didn't Mr. Hopkins send you to the office?" Ah, the stupid teacher has a stupid name. I bet his first name is Stupid.

"The principle said I could come here..." I said, sitting down in Casey's seat. She had been pacing and was standing beside the chair.

"Why?" Casey asked, still a little shocked from my sudden appearance.

"He said that I probably wanted to talk to someone else, and he suggested Paul, so... Here I am," I said quickly. It's dangerous to interrupt Casey's many rants.

"Okay. But you're in my seat," Casey said. Wow, she didn't strangle me. Yay!

"Oh, um, sorry." I got up, and Paul looked surprised. No wonder. I bet Casey has told him all about mine and Casey's many quarrels. Well, before we got together, I mean.

"Well, okay then. So, Casey, do you mind...?" Paul trailed off, looking towards the door. Casey looked offended.

Good job, Paul. _Good job._

"Hey, no need to stop talking just 'cause of me! Think of it as joint therapy or whatever you wanna call it," I said, wrapping an arm around Casey's neck and planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Her face pulled a disgusted look, but she made eye contact and I knew she was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, why not?" she agreed - reluctantly, I noticed. Hmm... should I be concerned that she'd rather talk to a school counselor than me?

"Alright. So, what happened? Casey has already told me about the note, and you punching - what was his name again?" Paul asked.

"Mitch," Casey replied, not looking at me. I furrowed my brow, Paul continued on.

"Mitch, but that's about as far as we got," he concluded. I took my arm away from Casey and slid my hands in my back pockets, looking around the room. What to say, what to say? Aha!

"He was being disrespectful to my _step_sister, and I wasn't going to stand for it," I say, proud that I could come up with that much.

"Well, I'm sure Casey could've handled it, there was no need for you to go all 'protective'," he made air quotes. I _hate_ air quotes. Unless they're benefiting me, that is.

"Yeah, uh-huh. Casey - can I talk to you for a second?" I asked, jerking my thumb towards the door. She looked at Paul and he nodded, mouthing "quickly" before she got up and followed me out. "Casey, you didn't tell him, did you?" I asked, once I had checked the halls and made sure that no one was around.

"No," she said quickly.

"You weren't going to tell him, were you?" I continued, already knowing the answer to this one.

"Er, maybe?" she said, looking anywhere but at me.

"Casey, I don't care if Paul says that everything you say in there is confidential," I chided, beginning to pace. "If he knows, then eventually everyone will know. I know that he wouldn't say anything," or at least I hope not, "but you'll feel - or I might - that someone else needs to know, then first thing the next morning, we're on the local news!" Okay, so I exaggerated a little to make a point, but who doesn't?

Casey sighed, "Derek, everyone in school already knows, and most choose to acknowledge the fact that none can have either one of us - well, with the exception of Mitch, that is." Her mouth twitched upwards, "The news?" She began to giggle, and I let a small chuckle escape my lips.

"Did I make my point, though?" I asked.

"I guess."

Phew! That's a relief!

I kissed her on the cheek and opened the door for her. And I knew that our secret wouldn't last long, after all.


	4. Let's Talk It Out

Chapter 4: **Let's Talk It Out**

Crap. Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP! . . . _Shit! _

I was literally fuming; Paul and Casey had fear in their eyes, as well the pansy in front of me. _Someone_ (ahem, Stupid McStupid aka Mr. Hopkins) sent what's-his-face to Paul's office.

Clearly this stupid man needs to go back to stupid kindergarten and take stupid naps, sucking his stupid thumb.

This. Is. So. _Stupid!_

All I can think about is how this pansy's face is going to look when I'm through with him. Casey has her hand on my forearm, trying to calm with "soothing" words. Fat chance of me calming down anytime soon.

"Now, Derek," Paul begins. I shut him up with a glare that would make your blood run cold.

I can't believe it! That pansy is _smirking!_

He's freakin smirking at me! At _me!_

He. Is going. To die.

**Soon.**

"Yes, Derek. You need to calm down," the pansy prods. Oh, I'll calm down all right. Right after you're paying millions of dollars for plastic surgery from my fists.

A sneer crawls onto my face, and Casey looks utterly afraid. Not so much of me – she knows I would never hurt her – but scared of what I'm going to do to the Smirking Pansy.

That's his new name, by the way. Smirking Pansy. Hehe...

"You. Touched. Her." I speak in a low growl.

_Casey had just sat down in the chair with me against the wall when there was a knock on the door. Paul groaned almost inaudibly, but I caught it and smirked a bit. _

"_Yes?" he calls, his head resting in his hands. The door opens, and there he stands. In all his stupid pansyness._

_A scowl crosses my face as he notices Casey. I immediately stand up straight and stalk closer to her. "What are _you_ doing here?" _

"_What's it to you?" he retorts. _

_My fists clench. "In case you hadn't _noticed_, _we_ are having a session, so if you kindly exit the premises, then we can be along our _separate_ ways."_

"_I must agree with Derek, uh, Mr.?" Apparently he's just as bad with names as I am._

"_Just Mitch," he says and winks at Casey. _

_I could kill him._

"_Well, _Mitch_," I say, using his name with as much venom as I could ever recall using."Paul says he agrees, so, _leave._" I stand in front of Casey, crossing my arms._

"_Wait, are we talking about the Mitch who is the cause of all this?" Paul asks, bewildered._

"_By 'this' I assume you mean the note?" Pansy inquires. _

_Idiot._

"_Yes, that's what I mean," Paul said quickly._

"_Also, the way you seem to be stalking Casey. Dude, you seriously need to get a life," I add, much to Paul's displeasure. Pansy isn't phased; or at least he's not showing it._

"_What are you?" Pansy has the gall to ask._

"_I believe the correct term is 'who', not 'what,'" Casey corrects him with an air of confidence. _

_He smirks, "No, I mean 'what.'"_

_I let a scoff escape from my throat before marching up to it – er, I mean, _him.

"_I'm your nightmares come to life," I say, my tone menacing._

"_Is that so?" He looks me up and down, "Yep. I definitely see the resemblance. With you and my grandmother, I mean."_

"_Dude, that comeback was so lame..." I'm at a loss for words. I've never heard such a lame comeback in my entire life. That's really bad – considering all the comebacks that I've heard. "Oh, my ears are bleeding. I can feel my _brains_ just __**oozing**__ out of my ears." I clench my hands over my ears and double over, feigning pain._

_He makes a disgusted face and I smirk with triumph. Take that, Smirking Pansy. _

"_All right, then. Son, why don't you go get two chairs. It looks like we're going to be awhile..." Paul addresses me. _

"_Me? Why don't you just send Pansy over here?" I ask, not wanting to leave Casey alone – by that I mean without me – in Smirking Pansy's presence._

"_Fine. Pa-Mitch, go get two chairs."_

_I give a small chuckle. I am manipulating even the _guidancecounselor _to bend to my ways. Muahahaha! _

_Mitch scowls (must've heard me chuckle... or he could've heard Paul almost use his real name) and goes on a hunt for two chairs. Casey looks up at me, and basically her eyes tell me 'You'd better behave, Derek Venturi, or I'll make you pay for it.' I gulp and uncross my arms; my fists never unclench. We wait in a not-so-pleasant silence until Pansy comes back with the chairs. I take one from him – not too nicely, mind you – and place it beside Casey. He merely shrugs (I'm gonna kill 'im, I keep telling you) and puts his chair on Casey's other side._

_Damn. I forgot about her other side. _

_Paul cringes at the look of disdain on my face and props his head in his hand. _

"_Is _anyone _going to tell me the whole story here?" Paul asks, looking a little desperate and more than peeved. _

_I don't blame him._

_I sigh and look at Casey. She furrows her brow and I nod. She shakes her head and I nod again. (Notice our beautiful relationship has it's benefits when it comes to eye contact)._

_She sighs and tells the story (from her point of view – it sounded strange like that) from beginning to end. When she spoke of Sam, my not-too-long-but-still-existent-nails dug into my skin, making little crescent moons on my palms. I sigh in relief when she didn't go into depth about the, er, _pace_ in our relationship. _

_When she gets up to where we are (the present) I smirk, admiring the purpling bruise on Smirking Pansy's face. _

"_Well, that is certainly... interesting," Paul says. I distinctly hear Casey mutter 'that's the understatement of the century' under her breath. "Er, Pan-Mit-Pa – what's your name again?" Wow, he really _is_ bad with names. At least I can remember Smirking Pansy._

"_Mitch. What is it with you two and names?" Pansy snaps. Aw, please, that wouldn't even leave a tooth mark._

_I roll my eyes, "I only remember names of important people." _

_He makes a face and leans back in his chair. I lean forward and Casey seems to be just extremely uncomfortable. _

"_Uh, okay. _Mitch_," Paul says, almost as if he didn't believe him. "Why are you bothering Casey so? It's obvious that she and Derek are a couple." Well, he's taking it with a lot of grace. I expected blubbering and sputtering and lots more 'ings' than this._

"_Because I always get what I want. And I want Casey," Pansy replies. Before I could do anything, he put his hand on her thigh. _

_Oh, this bitch is going to _**die.**

_I jump out of my chair, causing it to fall backwards. I quickly pull Casey behind me. Pansy stands up and tries to back away._

So here we are, Casey behind me, Paul cowering at his desk, and Pansy backed against the wall. Hmm... what's a guy to do in this situation? I've already laid down the law, so, maybe I'll just punch his face in.

Casey looked up at me with admiration (peripheral vision does _wonders_ for your knowledge) and stopped trying to calm me down. Maybe she finds me being protective a turn-on.

Oh, who am I kidding. I'm a walking turn-on.

"Hey, I told you I always get what I want," Pansy said, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I am _not_ something to be owned!" Casey said, enraged. She stepped more to the side of me, as my partner, not as someone to have to be protected.

I finally understood. We're in this together.

"She is a human being, you piece of scum. Unlike you," I said with venom, being sure to enunciate each and every syllable to get my point across.

Pansy put a hand over his heart, "Oh, how will I ever survive. Derek, you just hurt me so much." Wow, he actually used his real voice: a squeak.

"Good. Would you like me to hurt you again? Free of charge," I said, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"No, that's fine. You can have it back," he said.

"Sorry, there's a no return policy."

I lunged at him. Soon he was on the floor (sound familiar? The parking lot with Sam) and I was swinging punches mercilessly.

Before I could do any excruciatingly painful damage, Casey pulled me off, her arms around my chest, trying to hold me back.

"Derek! Derek, you need to calm down. This solves nothing," she said into my ear, making me calm down.

"Except for a few of my anger issues," I added. I heard her laugh and I smiled, immediately easing up. Pansy just laid there – bleeding (whoop, whoop!) - whimpering.

"Derek, that was unnecessary. I'm afraid that, although I was fully on your side, I'm going to have to recommend suspension," Paul chided. I nodded, not caring in the least.

Talking always helps my mood.


	5. Counting Flowers on the Wall

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews guys!

* * *

Chapter 5: **Counting Flowers On The Wall**

I am _so_ bored.

I don't think I've ever been this bored in my entire life.

Maybe I should've punched Paul, too. Then he wouldn't have seen me beat Smirking Pansy up, therefore not suspending me.

Okay, that probably would've led to expulsion.

...

I am so bored.

_'Counting flowers on the wall,  
That don't bother me at all.' _suddenly pops into my head.

Hmm... I haven't heard that song in a while. Describes my situation perfectly, though. Well, I don't have flowers on my wall... Come to think of it, there are no flowers on any of the walls in this house.

Thank God.

I'm suspended for three days; fair 'nuff. I got in ten or so punches. Now, that's not a fifth of how many I gave Sam, but... You have to learn to get used to disappointment.

Wait a second – doesn't this mean that I can't protect Casey from Pansy? Oh, this is not going to happen. I know, I'll just call one of the guys. Right, it's only eleven. They're not home – they're at school... but they have cell phones! Yay!

I grabbed my mobile and punched in Jimmy Sanders' number. And it's ringing... and _ringing_... and _ringing_...

...good _God_, man! Answer the flippin phone! (Which, actually, is pretty funny, in the pun way. 'Cause he has a flip phone.)

"Hello?"

Phew! "Jimmy! My main man!" I began.

"Derek? You do realize I'm about to be late for class, right?"

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled. "Look, I just need you to do me a favor for the next three days. Can you do it?"

"Um, sure. What exactly is it that you want me to do?"

"Keep that new kid away from Casey. He's scum, beat him up if you have to – just try not to get caught. I'm trusting you with my girl, dude. Don't let me down," I said, giving a tone that clearly said: I'll pound you if you don't take care of her.

"Uh, okay ... Say, what's this new kid look like?" I sighed.

"He's got black hair, about my height – shorter than you – and blue eyes."

"Alright."

"Thanks, man."

"Uh-huh, bye," he said. I hit the 'end' button and sighed with relief. I could trust Jimmy. He was stronger than I am – that's _very_ strong, by the way – and he could probably take on a college kid. Plus, he knows that I could take him, even though by what I said you'd think I couldn't. Hockey has made me agile, where he's only been on the team for a few years, where as I breathe it. And I can throw a punch like a rock tumbling down the mountainside. Beat that, Sanders.

_**Okay Derek, calm yourself. Sanders is your friend. **__I know. It's an ego thing. __**Whatever. So, what are you going to do for three days straight with nothing to do? **__I don't know -_

"Derek! Get down here!" my dad called. Hmm... he must be here working on a case. Ugh.

I dragged myself off my bed and down the stairs, only to be faced with the ever-reddening face of my father. His hands were on his hips again. Heh, heh heh...

"Suspended?" he said to me. It wasn't a question. Ignore the question mark. It was merely inquisitive. I think.

"Uh, maybe?" I said.

"Three days, I hear. Just what exactly did you do?" he said, now pacing.

"I got in a fight."

He stopped, "A fight?"

"I was defending someone's honor, Dad. You always told me that if I didn't think something was right that I should make sure to fix it. So I did," I shrugged. I've got him with that one.

"Whose honor was it, prey tell?"

"Casey's," I answer, looking him square in the eye. He looks flabbergasted. Oh, spare me.

"What happened?" What is this, 20 Questions?

"A guy wouldn't leave her alone, he touched her, so I beat him up, okay?" Is that good enough for you? 'Cause if it's not, well then, you can just get used to disappointment, 'cause you're not finding out _anything_ until Casey and I both are eighteen.

He nodded, "Alright, son. I believe you."

I stumbled back a bit, "You do?"

"Yes. Now, go to your room and stay there," he says and goes back into the living room.

Okay... that was a little on the strange side, but whatever. I don't care. I just need to find something to entertain my simple-yet-complex mind for the next few hours until Casey gets home.

I went back up the stairs, taking them two at a time until I got to my room. I would clean it, but Casey ruined any chances of that happening. I think she _wants_ me to be bored.

Looking around my clean room, my eyes fell on my computer. Of course! How could I be so stupid?

...don't answer that.

I sat in my chair and switched on the computer. I smiled as my wallpaper came into view – a picture of me and Casey under a tree in the park. We took it weeks ago, when Dad thought I had hockey practice (which I didn't – it had been canceled earlier that day) and Casey was going to Emily's. We went for a stroll in the park, holding hands and just... talking. It feels nice, having someone to talk to and not be judged. When I talk to her, she just looks in my eyes and listens. And she understands. No one has _ever_ understood before. Now that I have her...

I dug at my eye, keeping a little water back that had been building. God, I'm turning into such a sap. But the thing is, I don't mind. Not one bit. Besides, I'm only like this when I think about her when I'm by myself – or with her, for that matter. Clicking on the Internet icon, I waited for my homepage to come up.

Smirking at familiar radio page, I clicked on 'detach' and played my tunes. I only have this because I don't waste a day burning music from my CDs onto one for a mix. Peh – I hated doing that. Just as the first song broke into the chorus, I heard a knock on my door. I frowned – it's only eleven-thirty. It must be Dad.

What does he want?

"Yeah?" I called. My door opened and my dad stood in the doorway, holding something up. "Somethin' you want, Dad?"

"Yes," he began. I don't like the look on his face as enters my room. I also don't like the sight of the manila envelope in his hand. "Derek, I have something important to ask you."

"Yes?" I prodded. I hate when people draw things out. I even hate when I do it. Yet catch myself doing it all the time.

He looks at me and frowns, "First off, turn off that computer. You're grounded from electronics." I groaned and shut it down. Man, that sucks. "Second, have you been cheating?"

What in the _world_ is this crazy man talking about?

I give him a look that clearly stated the following: Huh?

He sighed, as if I were a burden that he's been forced to carry. Thanks, Dad. That means a lot. "Your grades. They're moving up," he says. Oh, so I have to _cheat_ to get my grades to improve? Thanks for the memo. "Are you cheating?"

My face becomes impassive as I stand up walk to my door. "Well, since that's the first conclusion you've come to, and since I'd hate to disappoint you if I said no, I'll just let you leave," I said, opening the door even wider and motioning with my free arm for him to leave.

"Derek, that's not-"

"I don't care, Dad. You seem to have little faith in me anyway, so why would you trust me if I told you that I was actually trying? Just go ahead and leave, Dad. I want to be alone," I said, and walk over to my window. I heard a sigh and then a click as my door closed.

He's slowly climbing his way up my People-I-Hate-With-a-Burning-Purple-Passion list.

I don't get what his problem is! Ever since that day when he found the condom on my floor, he's turned into a Nazi! Yeah, after my three weekend-grounding, he found something else wrong (my grades) and grounded me again!

Not that I mind about the grounding part, 'cause Casey's here, but the fact that when I do get my grades up (finally – Casey's been practically pulling her beautiful hair out, thinking I wouldn't go to college) he thinks I'm freakin' cheating! I admit, it is quite a shocker that my C-Average grades have gone up at a steady pace for quite some time now, but he thinks I'm _cheating?_ I don't know if I can stand him anymore!

"Argh!" I yelled, and threw myself onto my bed. I need to talk to Casey.


	6. Round and 'Round We Go

Chapter 6: **Round And Round We Go**

"You shouldn't be so hard on your dad, Derek," Casey said as she crawled into my lap to get comfortable. I leaned my head against the wall behind my bed, closing my eyes.

"He shouldn't be so distrustful with me," I began. "I know I've messed up – a lot. But that doesn't mean that I can't change, Case. You know that – you've been there with me. I just wish he'd trust me. Is that so much to ask?"

She turned her head to look up at me, "No, it's not, Derek. He _should_ trust you more." She gave a soft kiss to my lips and began to speak. That's never good. "But trust is a fragile thing. It breaks like that," she snapped, "but it takes forever for it to build. Especially if that person has already broken that trust before."

I sighed, "Do you _always_ have to be right?" But she didn't answer, she was already asleep. It's about eleven at night and Casey and I had been talking ever since she got home. She was stressing about how much homework she had, so while she did it, she laid on her stomach and I gave her a massage. Not long after, she gave me _my _homework, to which I replied: 'Yeah, right.' She made me do it anyway. Ugh. On the plus side: I got a massage, too. This is the part where you applaud, people. We decided to skip dinner and just spend time together. It was really, really nice. It's been a long time since we only talked. I'd forgotten what it felt like to not be kissing. Not that I'm complaining, or anything.

Hmm... I guess I should just go to sleep now.

0o

I rolled over in my bed, expecting a body to be there, but there was nothing but an empty space. Of course, she's at school. Well, I guess one benefit to this would be sleeping extra late. Ha ha ha. It's almost noon, by the way. Here comes another boring day filled with, well... boringness.

"Derek!" I groaned. He must not have finished up that case yet. My dad, I mean.

"What?" I called. I'm not moving. If he wants to talk, yell, whatever, he can come up here. I'm _not moving._

"Get down here!"

"What?"

"_Get down here!"_

"Sorry, I can't hear you, Dad! Maybe you should come up here!" Heh-heh-heh! Take that!

_I'mnotmovingI'mnotmovingI'mnotmoving._

Maybe if I repeat that enough, it'll be true.

"I said: _Get down here!_" he shouted. He sounds angry now. Oh, I'm so scared. Shakin' in my boots, Dad. _I'mnotmovingI'mnotmoving..._

"Derek! Get your butt down here RIGHT NOW!" Yep, I think he just woke up Beethoven from his grave. Remember, he was deaf? My ears are ringing...

"Derek!"

"Alright! I'm coming!" I'm a walking contradiction, I swear I am.

I stomped down the stairs, showing my obvious displeasure, crossed my arms, and glared at my angered father. "Yes?"

"Don't take that tone with me, boy. You better show me some respect, and I mean right now. You're lucky I don't skin you alive. If not for your suspension then for your blatant disrespect," he lectured, looking me in the eye. Fine, if he wants to play that game, then let's play.

"Disrespect? That's rich," I mocked, "I give respect to those who deserve it, _George_. I don't _care_ if you ground me. In two years it won't even matter! I'll be eighteen and out of here," I continued, paying no heed to the escalating rage in his eyes.

"Good. I can't wait," he said.

"Me either. What is it that you wanted to speak with me about, George?" I would call him Mr. Venturi, but that shows respect. He doesn't deserve it. I can't give him a chance. Sorry, Casey.

"Forget it – I only wanted to speak with my son. I guess I'll have to wait until he's not grounded anymore."

Hmm... grounded, eh? Doesn't sound too bad. Besides, he's too oblivious to notice whether or not I'm in the house – I could sneak out like that! -insert snap of fingers here- "What happens if he doesn't want to speak with you, George? I mean, really, who would want to speak with a Nazi?" Bam! Take that!

...Okay, so that was kind of a lame comeback, but, whatever. It made him mad, didn't it?

"That's it! I've had it-"

"_You've _had it? You've _had it?_ You're one to talk! All I hear from you is how _I'm _not good enough, _Casey's_ the better daughter; _I'm_ not smart enough – 'Derek, why can't you be more like Casey?', 'Derek, you could learn a thing or two from Casey.' I'm not cheating, Dad! I'm trying to be good enough! God! No matter what I do, you think I could be better! _What_ will it _take_ for you to _proud of me?"_ Okay, not exactly what I wanted to come out, but it's out now and there's nothing I can do about it.

He does make feel inadequate, you know. He's never said any of those things – well, except for the 'learn a thing or two from Casey' part – but, still.

"Derek, I _am_ pro-"

"Stop," I said, putting my hand up and looking away for a brief moment. "I don't want to hear it – I don't want your _pity_."

With that said, I turned around and bolted up the stairs at full speed. "And I am _not_ your son. You stopped being my father a _long_ time ago," I said as I reached the top. "The only parent I ever had is dead. You remember, don't you? Chrissy?" I turned and went to my room, slamming the door with as much force as I could, making the records on my wall shake.

_I should not have said that. I should _not _have said that. _

Oh, God. What's gonna happen? I'm gonna die. It's official. He's going to come up here with his shotgun that he keeps behind the stairs and shoot me.

_Maybe you just run away._

Whoa – where'd that come from?

Besides, even if I_ did_ run away, I wouldn't have the advantage of living in the same house as my girlfriend.

Hmm... run away? Or live with the girlfriend and horrible excuse for a father?

Run away?

Girlfriend?

Run away?

Horrible father?

I can always call her cell. We could meet. There's always school, too. The car is fully paid off, and officially mine...

Okay, I'll leave. But only for a little while. Just until I can clear my head. It's not as though anyone'll miss me. Well, I hope Casey would miss me. I know Marti would...

I looked around my room and headed towards my closet. _I have to do this fast._ Grabbing my black hockey bag that I've had since seventh grade, I marched over to my dresser and threw in some clothes and underwear. Feeling around in my pockets for my keys – thank God, they're there! Yay! - I opened my window and tossed the bag out.

Giving one last glance to my now deserted room, I hopped out the window and went to my car.


	7. On My Own

Chapter 7: **On My Own**

I'm really beginning to think that I shouldn't have taken the car. I mean, what if they think someone stole it? In all reality, it _is_ my car, but, still. On the plus side, running away is very liberating. Basically, all I've done is wander around for the past few hours, but it's quite fun.

I never would have thought that just meandering through city would be like this. It holds what one would call a portion of the world – in all it's many shades of gray between the black and white. So far I've seen homeless people – which makes me feel guilty for running away from a perfectly nice home, while they have none – asking for spare change – which I gave them; I've seen little kids chasing after one another in good fun in their front yards, a mother laughing at their antics and calling them inside for cookies; I've seen just about anything you can imagine – just downsize it a bit and we'll be on the same page.

To be honest, I'm not really sure that I ever want to go back home. All I have to do is live on my own until I'm eighteen and – WHAMO – instant freedom along with my liberated self. Ha-ha-ha.

Someone tried calling my cell earlier, but I just ignored it. You wanna guess who it was? It was _him_. That scuz-bag had the nerve to call me after all that happened. After that, I realized that Casey was probably pissed off at me for leaving her alone in that house, so I sent her a text and shut off my phone. I told her that I was fine, I needed to clear my head, and that she shouldn't worry (if she did). I also informed her with abbreviations (as my hand was beginning to cramp) what had happened with George and that, no, I would never forgive him, and 'I don't know if I'll come home.'

Yeah, I'm not so sure that she'll be okay with the 'no-come-home' part. If I do, she'll probably beat the crap out of me and then throw me out the window.

I shuddered involuntarily at the thought and continued my drive.

You know, maybe I should just go and apply for a job, or whatever. I'll get enough money (to add to my money that I already have – not much, lemme tell you) and rent an apartment, then I'll contact George and tell him of my plans of...

Oh, my God. Am I really going to do this?

Am I really going to give up a sheltered, (sometimes) comforting home? Just because of him? I feel like such a coward.

Then I remembered what had transpired between myself and George and gave a firm nod that I _was_ going to do this. I know – with little or no doubt – that if I go back to that house... I'll kill him. I really will. I don't even know why he'd started acting like he had, but I don't like it. Not one bit.

I actually hate him.

I don't think I've ever held so much anger for one person. Not even Sam or Pansy.

It's final. I'm going to do this. I'm going to get that job, get that apartment, and get that emancipation. I'm going to do this. And no one, not even Casey, is going to stop me.

_One week later..._

I've been sleeping in this car for about a week now, and I checked my phone for the first time since I sent that text to Casey – fifty missed calls. About half of 'em were from her, a few more from Jimmy, and three from the coach saying that if 'you don't get your lazy ass down here by next week you're off the team!'.

Okay, you caught me. I haven't been going to school, but that's only because of the job I've gotten. I managed to convince my manager to let me work full time for a week and then I'd go back to school. I'm working as a waiter/cashier at the Main Street Diner. The pay is pretty good – about 12.50 an hour. Hey, it works for me. That, plus the money that I had mentioned earlier, went with me on my trip through town, looking at apartments. Nothing extravagant, nor a torn-down-termite-infested-pot-hole, either. Just, a happy medium, you know?

"I have a job, and it pays pretty well. So far I can probably give you two months of rent," I informed the balding, plump landlord as he showed me around the apartment.

The man stroked his beard, "Well, son, as far as I can tell you seem to be pretty well equipped. I expect you to be a very well mannered man, Mr. Venturi. No parties, and no visitors after midnight. Try to keep it down, too. The walls aren't so thin you could break them, but they also aren't made of stone," he said, giving me a slightly stern look. "Other than that, I believe that you're ready for this, so, here's the key," he handed me a little silver key, which I immediately put inside my pocket for safekeeping.

"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it."

When he just stood there in front of the door, looking at me expectantly, I realized what he was waiting for. "Oh!" I gave a start, and quickly found my wallet. Pulling out the appropriate amount, I gave him the money and he gave me a smile.

"Good to do business with you."

I gave a curt nod and he walked off, leaving me with a key and my black bag.

0o

Giving a small wave to Mr. Frank (his last name is actually Frank, I swear), the landlord, and readjusting the strap of my book bag, I walked out of the building and got in my car. It was now Monday (ugh), and I was finally going back to school. I don't know if I can do this.

_**What the crap are you talking about? 'I don't know if I can do this'? Snap out of, man! Good God! What happened to the 'Great Derek Venturi'? The guy who was not so easily intimidated by the world? **__Whoa, where'd you come from? __**Where do you think, genius. **__Why am I getting a lecture from my subconscious? __**Mmm... because you need it. **__Why? __**Because you're acting like Pansy. **__Hey! Don't even go there! __**Oh, have I hit a nerve? Is little Derek going to beat himself up? **__Shut up. __**It's so easy to push your buttons. **__Mine are yours, fool. __**I know, but I'm still having fun.**__ You're infuriating. __**Then so are you. **__Gah! What do you want, already? __**I'm trying to get you to regain your confidence which – for some **_**strange**_** reason – you lost. **__What are you talking about? I have plenty of confidence. __**Oh, yeah? Prove it. **__Fine, I will._ _**I win.**_

I chose not to dignify that remark with a response and started the car. It's going to be a _looong _day.


	8. Duke it Out

**A/N: **Hey, guys! Okay, so I just want to thank those of you who have reviewed my story and told me what you think, and I'm sorry that I don't individually reply to them, but I'm going to work on that. So... thanks! :)

Oh, and I'm thinking up this new story, where Derek and his dad spend the day together. I feel kinda bad for always making George seem terrible. Especially after I saw Sixteen Sparkplugs and how they kinda bonded. It was cool. And then I felt bad. lol So yeah. I think I'm gonna call it "Like Father and Son," so be on the look-out!

* * *

Chapter 8: **Duke It Out**

I walked into school very cautiously, trying to avoid anyone's direct line of vision. If they don't see me, then they won't shout my name, and I can find Casey and talk to her myself instead of Emily going to tell her.

Oh, that's right. I've never really cleared up the Emily thing, have I?

Okay, so about five days – give or take a few – after Casey and I got together, Casey was guilt-ridden about Emily. She knew that she had had a crush on me since, well, forever, and felt as if she was betraying her friend. I, of course, didn't really care about anyone but Casey at the time so I just ignored it. But eventually Casey started to become a little distant, and I wasn't having that. Uh-uh – my Casey would be focused on _me_. And that's that.

So the next day at school, Casey and I walked in – hand in hand – and marched toward Emily. Her face was one of complete shock, and, I swear, if that girl didn't think that maybe I'd gone blind and Casey was helping me around. Ugh. Anyway, she started blabbering away about seeing-eye dogs and how she would do anything and everything in her power to help me when Casey stopped her.

"_Emily!" she practically shouted, for that girl was talking too much to even hear myself think. "Derek isn't blind, okay?" _

_Emily looked completely confused, "Huh?" Ah, the vocabulary._

"_Derek and I are together now. As in boyfriend/girlfriend. I've wanted to tell you, Emily. Trust me, I have. But this is a very sensitive thing, with us being stepsiblings and all. Emily, I'm really sorry," Casey said, looking as if she would cry if Emily was mad. I squeezed her hand comfortingly and received a small squeeze back in return. _

_A stream of emotions passed over Emily's face, one after another. First, shock; then confusion again; then something I couldn't read – hurt, I guess; and then, least expected – happiness?_

"_Really? Are you serious? Well, let me just say – it's about time! Good grief, I thought me and the others were going to have to shove you into a closet! Finally!" she exclaimed, talking a mile a minute. My jaw dropped. Was she... serious? I looked over at Casey, who wore the same expression as I did. "Hello? Guys, come back to earth! Hello!" Emily said, waving a hand in front of our faces. _

"_Em, are you sure you're... okay, with this?" Casey asked hesitantly. _

"_Well, it _is_ a little weird – but, then again, you've always been weird," she paused here. Her brow furrowed, "What would there be for me not to 'be okay' with?" _

_Casey took a step closer to her, "Em, you _do_ realize that this means that Derek and I are together. A couple. As in, no longer single."_

_Emily looked at her like she was stupid, "Well, duh! It would take an idiot not to know that!" She then proceeded to take Casey's hand and pulled her away from me, heading in the direction of her next class. Casey managed a small wave before being tugged around the corner and out of my sight. _

To this day, I _still_ don't know what is wrong with that girl, but I do know that later on Casey told me that Emily really was okay with us being together and that it was just a silly little crush she had – then she began to go on about some kid in her Physics class.

I shook my head at the strange acts of the girl and went stealthily on down the hallways, desperate to avoid, well, people.

"Derek?" I heard her voice cry in disbelief, then gave me a bone crushing hug that cut of my circulation.

"Hey, Case," I said a little hesitantly. Ow, this hurts. "Uh, Case?" It seriously doesn't feel like she's letting go anytime soon. Wow, this _really_ hurts. What is she, a body builder or something? "Can you let go? I'm a, kind of losing circulation right now..." I trailed off. Next thing I know, I've been release from the immense pain and then my cheek was met with something that stung. Really, really hard.

"Derek Venturi! How dare you do this to me! Do you know how worried I've been?" she began to pace, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. "I called and called. And what do I get? 'You have reached 'The Derek', leave a message and I'll call back,'" she said, giving a surprisingly accurate imitation of my voice mail. "Well, you didn't call back!" My cheek was yet again smacked, and I tried my best not to flinch. She has to let this out or she'll be mad at me forever. "I've been worried sick, Derek! You didn't even leave a note!" Here, I _had_ to interrupt.

"Casey, do you _ever_ check your messages?" I asked, giving her a questioning look. She looked a bit perplexed at this.

"What do you mean?" I don't think she's noticed the crowd gathering, but I have. I really don't care, though.

I sighed, "Gimme your phone."

She furrowed her brow, yet dug in her pocket and gave it to me all the same. I quickly went through the process and found my message. Giving her a knowing look, I showed her the small screen. Her mouth formed a small 'oh' and took the phone back. Putting it in her pocket, she finally noticed the crowd.

"Well, there's nothing to see here, move along!" she said, making an intimidating look that made even me flinch in fear. Almost instantly – with the exception of a few, who I glared at and they scampered away – they all left and went about their business. Casey turned back to me. "You know, I never really figured out how to get to that part. I haven't had it for very long, you know," she said nervously.

I chuckled, "I noticed."

She hit me playfully in my shoulder and then hugged me again, only less painfully this time – thank God. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I replied and kissed her head. We began walking to my locker this time, so I could get my things.

"Where were you, anyway?" she asked, leaning sideways against the locker next to mine.

I gave a small shrug, "Town."

Her eyes narrowed, "You mean to tell me that for a week you were in town, with nowhere to go?"

Grabbing the needed materials, I shut my locker door and faced her. "Yep."

"Where did you sleep?"

"In the back seat of my car."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't rent an apartment with the little money I had, so I worked full-time at the Main Street Diner to get the money. Now I have a part-time job."

She looked a bit shocked. Why, Casey, I'm insulted. "Why?"

"Because I plan to live there until I'm eighteen, and then I'll go to college on a scholarship." My grades are at a record high, in case you didn't notice by the 'are you cheating?' incident.

"Derek, you can't. You'll get Mom and George in trouble for, oh, gee, I don't know – abandonment?" she crossed her arms at me and I smirked. We began to walk towards her first class, my arm wrapped around her waist.

"I'm filing for an emancipation next tomorrow," I replied nonchalantly.

She stopped, her arms uncrossing and her jaw dropped, "You're kidding?"

"No."

"Derek, why would you do that? Don't you like living in the same house as me?"

"Of course I do, but I _don't_ like living in the same house as that... _bastard_," I said with disgust. We started walking again, my arm around her waist and she leaning into me. There were a few moments of silence as I let what all I said sink in.

"Do you have an apartment?" she asked.

"Yep. Bought it yesterday. I've already payed two months rent."

More silence. "Can I move in with you?"

Here was where it was my turn for me to stop and let my jaw drop. "Casey, you couldn't do that. You love your family too much. You'd die if you didn't see them. I know you, Case. Probably more than you think."

"You won't even think about it? I mean, picture it: us, all alone-"

"-neighbors-"

"-don't care, no Mom and George, nor little step siblings and siblings to play dress-up with-"

"-that sounds nice-"

"-I know. Now, doesn't it all sound wonderful?" she ended with a dreamy smile. My walls were slowly crumbling. I'm likely to just give her everything.

"Yes, it does. I'll..." I paused a bit here. Don't get her hopes up, they just might get shattered. "...think about it."

She smiled and gave me a kiss. When she tried to pull away, I decided that I wasn't having that. I pulled her closer, and we shared a passionate kiss before the warning bell rang and Casey went off to her class. I stared after her until one of the cranky janitors shouted at me to get to class. I gave them a look of disgust and went on my way.


	9. Words and Feelings Run Deep

**A/N: **Okay, so lemme just say: you guys freakin ROCK! The end. Enjoy :)

(Okay, so not the end of the story, but you know what meant, right?)

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Chapter 9: **Words and Feelings Run Deep**

The rest of the day passed as any other day of school, with the exception of me asking for the work I missed over the past five days. With my charm and sincerity, the teachers gave me my work and told me to have a note or I might fail the class. Yikes. Can't afford that – I need a scholarship in order to follow through with my plans. I mean, senior year is coming up, and I've seriously gotta start picking up the slack of the first two years that I was here.

What's this, you ask, the Great Derek Venturi trying to pick up his grades?

Wrong. Not trying. _Succeeding. _I've managed to get and keep a B in all of my classes, a B- being the worst.

Why am I doing this, you inquire?

One word: Casey.

She saw that my life was getting nowhere with the grades that I had and hounded me into finally doing my work. You know how when you train a dog new tricks? And when they get it right they get a treat? Yeah, well, I get treats. Heh, heh-heh.

Anyway, I met up with Casey several times in the duration of our breaks, and I noticed that Pansy hadn't come near her... or so I thought.

Apparently, when I was away – first on suspension, then job – Jimmy got suspended for punching Pansy in the face when he insulted Jimmy's girl whilst trying to defend Casey. So, yeah, didn't turn out too well. Pansy (I don't even know if he has a real name anymore... I doubt it) had been hitting on her ever since my suspension.

But you know what I don't get? The fact that he's not suspended for _provoking_ all of these fights. I mean, doesn't the principle get that if it weren't for his existence _none_ of this crap would be happening? That if it weren't for his stupid, smirking, pansy-self _I_ would probably still be here? If it weren't for that bloody suspension then I probably never would've gotten in that stupid fight with my stupid so-called father, therefore I would still live in my house, with my girlfriend, and I wouldn't have a stupid bloody mark on my record.

I blame Pansy.

He's paying for my therapy and that's the end of that.

I wonder if I could catch him outside school grounds... Ah, the joys of ski masks. Here's what I'll do – ah, no. That will take to long to explain. Here's the short version: buy ski mask, find Pansy (outside school grounds), beat him to a pulp. Simple as that. _I_ win.

"So Derek," Casey began as we got in my car, "where are we going?"

I looked at her before starting the car and beginning to pull out of the parking lot, "If by 'we' you mean you, then we are going to your home, where I'll drop you off and proceed to go to my place."

She pouted, "But Derek! Can't I at least see what it looks like? I mean, Mom expects me home by four at the most, and it's three now. I wanna see where my boyfriend's living," she said, putting her hand on my thigh and rubbing up and down.

"Casey," I groaned, "not while I'm driving."

"Oh, but Derek," she purred. I know what she wants. And, damn it all, I think I'm probably gonna give it to her. "I only want to see your place. Is that too much to ask of my boyfriend?"

"Fine," I said, trying to hold back a groan, "I'll take you. But just this once. And don't tell anyone you saw me. Not until I file for my emancipation." I warned.

"Oh, all right," she sighed, "I won't tell anyone."

0o

We arrived at my place about fifteen minutes later, and Casey looked mildly impressed. "I told you it wasn't much."

"No, you didn't," she replied, still looking around.

"Well, I am now."

"I think it's nice." She finally turned to face me, "How does it feel, Mr. Venturi?"

"How does what feel?"

"Having a place of your own," Casey said, twirling around, arms wide.

"It's... liberating. I like it. I'll have to get Ed and Marti to visit occasionally. Gotta keep in contact with the family, eh?"

She only nodded and continued wandering around my apartment. I heard some rustling and clattering, making me concerned for the safety of the building. "Uh, Casey? What exactly are doing?" I asked, going to where I thought she had gone. "Casey?" I looked in the bedroom, she wasn't there. Nor was she in the bathroom. Where is that girl? "Casey!"

Okay, lemme clear something up. My apartment is _not_ that big. It's not so small that it's two steps to each different part, but it's not pent house or anything.

So, where is that girl? Argh! All right, she _and_ Pansy are paying for my therapy.

"I'm up here!" I heard a muffled voice call. _Up here?_

"Where 'up here'?" I called, trying to remember if there even _is_ an 'up here'.

"On the roof, you dufus!" she said, and I could hear the amusement in her voice.

"How did you get up there?" She's only been here an hour and she's found the roof. I've slept here and I didn't even know you could get to the roof! It's not a flat roof, either. It's slanted. That's why (I guess) the landlord didn't tell me about it. He didn't want any endangerment cases or whatever 'cause some idiot tried to get on the roof.

"Go to your bedroom!"

"Uh... okay," I said, confusion evident in my voice.

"Look at the window!" Her voice was louder, I noticed. I went to the window and noticed that it was open. Huh, go figure.

"Use the ladder on the right side," she said, and I noticed that she was on the ladder, smiling at me. I cocked an eyebrow.

"Casey, do you really think this wise? I mean, the roof is freakin' slanted! You could fall off and die!" I gesticulated wildly, hoping to change her mind. I'm _not_ losing my girlfriend to a roof. And that's that.

"Derek, not all of it is slanted. The very top is flat, and there's a door to go back in if you choose," she explained.

"Hey – don't you look down your nose at me." At her amused face, I quickly added, "no pun intended."

"C'mon, Derek. Live a little."

"I _am_ living. Am I not breathing?" I quipped.

"Aw, is ickle Dewrek Venturwi escared of heights?" she mocked.

Okay, sue me. I'm a little afraid of heights. Aren't a lot of people?

"Heck no! Move outta my way," I said, and pushed her bottom upwards so I could get on. She giggled and I tried to smile, but I was too nervous. Yeah, all those times we went to the mountains, I wouldn't go to the edge.

"Okay, now we have to climb a bit. I hope you're wearing tennis shoes."

I gulped, "Climb?"

"Well, yeah. We have to get past the slanted part to get to the top," she explained. "Duh."

"Watch it," I said. Only, it was a little less strong than intended. I'm uh, not doing so well here. I'm a good climber, yes. I know this because in gym when we have to climb the rope I do it without even having to use my feet. Ah, you gotta love hockey.

She only sighed happily in response and kept moving up the ladder. Then she disappeared from my sight when I looked up next.

"Casey?!" I yelled, frantic. She didn't fall off or anything, did she? Oh, God. How do I explain this to, well... everyone? "Casey!"

"I'm on the slanted part. Chill, Derek. Nothing's going to happen."

Oh, thank God.

"Casey, don't you _ever_ do that to me again," I said, my voice (surprisingly) strong.

"Yes, master. We're not worthy, master," she said in a 'hypnotized' voice.

"Ha-ha, you're so funny."

"Hurry up, Derek. I only have until about 3:45 before we have to leave."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm comin'," I grumbled. I reached the slanted part and gulped nervously. "Are you sure we have to climb this part?"

"Yes, Derek. Are you scared?" she said, a few feet ahead of me.

"No. I'm just worried that you might fall... or something," I said, trying to hide my obvious fear.

"Uh-huh. Sure," she said sarcastically. About five treacherous minutes later, I made it to the top.

"Casey, you're the devil."

"I love you too, Derek," she cooed pinching my cheeks and smiling at me.

I smiled bitterly at her before turning my head to look at the view. "Wow. It's nice up here," I said.

"Yeah. It's beautiful," she agreed.

0o

If I had been smart and used my newly acquired smarts, I would've parked a little ways away from Casey's house. Well, I didn't. I – being the idiot I am most of the time – parked the car right _in front of the house._ Smart move, Venturi. Ugh. I am an idiot.

Apparently Casey has it in for me, as she didn't say a word. She somehow managed to keep me out there long enough for George to come out of the house. I nearly gagged when I saw him. Just the sight of him disgusts me.

I locked the doors of the car. Casey was still in the car with me, therefore she wouldn't allow me to leave.

I think she planned this. She paying for therapy (along with Pansy) _and_ hospital visits for near a nervous-breakdown.

Anyway, he started banging on the my window, yelling at me to get out. When he didn't stop for five minutes, I finally decided that he wasn't giving up.

"Geeze, I'm coming, okay?" I said, unlocking the doors. Immediately he opened my door, unbuckled me and pulled me out by my elbow. "Let go of me!" I screamed. He has no right to touch me.

"Get in the house," he said in a low growl. The look in his eyes was fierce, but I wasn't scared. I went in only because of Casey's pleading look. I snarled at _him_ before yanking my arm out of his grasp and storming into the front door. Almost the second I came in, Marti screamed my name and jumped up into my arms. I couldn't help but melt when she 'smooched' me on the cheek.

"Hey, Smarti," I said and put her down, rubbing her head affectionately.

"Smerek, where did you go?" she asked, looking up at me with a face that I could never say no to.

"I went away, Smarti. After this I don't think I'll be coming back," I replied solemnly. I looked over my shoulder to see George standing there with his arms crossed. If I hadn't seen him there, I might've given in to the desperate look that Marti was giving me, but my resolve hardened. Turning back to her, I bent over and looked her in the eye, "But hey, I'll let you come over to my place lots of times and we'll do whatever you want, eh?"

She smiled broadly, "Okay, Smerek!"

"So, we got a deal?" I stuck out my hand.

"Deal," she gave me hers and we shook on it.

I smiled at her, "All right, now go on upstairs. I need to talk with your daddy."

Her smile was replaced with a confused look, "Isn't he your daddy too, Smerek?"

Damn. I forgot she could be so smart. I sighed, might as well get this over with now, "No. Not anymore, Smarti." I gave her one last hug, "Now go upstairs."

She nodded, "Okay." She walked up the stairs, leaving Nora, Casey, George and me all standing on the ground floor.

Showtime.

"Casey, I'm gonna need you to go upstairs. This is between me and him," I said, looking pointedly at George. "Nora, the same." Casey looked at me solemnly before taking a baffled Nora's hand and leading them into the kitchen. Sneaky. She knows she can hear everything from there.

I've taught her well.

Now it's only me and him. Hmm... what to say? What to say...?

"Where have you been?" he asked me. Well, that works.

"Out."

"Why?"

"I think you know why," I replied, my voice void of any emotion.

"Don't get smart with me, boy," he chastised.

"Sorry. I'll try to tone it down so you can understand," I said. His hand flew out and made contact with my face. I stumbled backwards, not expecting it. That's gonna bruise tomorrow.

"I said, don't get smart with me. Now I want to know where you've been," he said, his tone dangerously low.

"And I told you: out."

He hit my cheek again and my hand flew to it. I could feel the blood beginning to trickle down my face. Yep. That's great. _"Where were you?"_ he shouted, his face turning beat red.

I looked at my fingers, which now had blood on them from my face. "Wow, I never thought you to be the abusive kind, but I guess I was wrong," I said, looking at his enraged face.

This time he picked me up by the collar of my shirt, making my feet dangle above the ground, "Answer me, boy. If you don't, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what? Hit me again?" I prodded, hoping to make him angry.

He threw me across the room; my back hit the wall – hard. I groaned, and, despite my throbbing head, got up and faced him. I ground my teeth together, trying to control my rage. I will not hit him. That would be a bad example for Marti, who is right now watching from the top of the stairs with Ed and Lizzie. Their eyes are all wide, and I can tell that they're shocked. Marti looks as if she's going to cry, although I'm not entirely sure what would cause her to do so. Ed is looking frozen to the spot, eyes wide and jaw dropped. Lizzie looked about the same as he did. George hasn't noticed them yet, and I don't plan to let him. If he does I'm afraid of what he'll do. If I keep him focused on me then he won't have a chance to even _think_ about them.

"What's the matter, George? Can't control your anger anymore so you're taking it out on me? That's real mature," I said, moving around so he was facing the opposite way from the kids. He turned to face me.

"You're one to talk. Running away from your problems is _always_ the answer. Leaving your family worried sick-"

"No. Don't talk like you missed me. I don't want to make you a liar too, George. That would just add to the accumulating list of bad things about you that I'm going to use for my reasons for my emancipation."

"Your what?"

"You heard me. Or do I need to spell it for you?"

He didn't answer.

"Okay. E-m-a-n-c-i-p-a-t-i-o-n. Now do you know what I'm talking about?" The pain in my cheek has receded a bit, but my head still feels like someone's beating it with a sledge hammer. Oh, hell no. He is not going to hit me again. He's approaching me slowly, like a panther going in for the kill.

I moved out of the way, "Marti, get in the car. You too, Ed, Lizzie. Lock the doors when you get in," I said, never looking away from this man. I heard the clunking of feet and the slamming of the door as they did as I told them to. George grew even angrier with me at this, and finally lunged at me, knocking me to the ground and putting his hands on my throat.

"You son of a bitch!" he screamed at me.

"Don't you ever call my mother that!" I yelled back, trying to pry his hands from my neck. I was slowly losing oxygen and he was too strong for me to move him. Then, I did the one thing I never thought I'd ever do: I called for help. "Casey! Oh, God! Someone help me!" I screamed, my voice cracking and I realized that it wasn't loud enough to be heard. The door to the kitchen was closed, and we had moved from right next to it to across the house. I was becoming weaker by the second, and I knew, without a doubt, that this man – this man who I used to call my father – was going to kill me.

That is, if it weren't for the cops coming.

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**C'mon, press the review button. Ya know ya want to... :waggles eyebrows:**

**;)**


	10. Pain Doesn't Hurt Too Badly, Does It?

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for all the great reviews! You guys are fantastic, really :)

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Chapter 10: **Pain Doesn't Hurt Too Badly... Does it?**

I came back to consciousness what seemed like hours later, but what Casey soon informed me of what just a few minutes. At first I thought I was dead, cause of all the lights and stuff, but it was only the cops taking a raging George and an ambulance coming for me. I told them repeatedly – with great strain, my throat hurt like hell – that I didn't need to go to the hospital, and that I needed to go home with the kids. But no, they insisted that I get checked out, you know, make sure that there was no damage to my head when I was thrown against the wall, or no brain damage from lack of oxygen.

I vaguely noticed a sort of pressure on my hand, which was Casey squeezing the life out of me. "Casey, I'm fine," I said, growing tired of the lack of circulation in my fingers. I looked to the paramedic, "Tell her I'm fine."

The man with blue eyes and red hair only shook his head and smiled, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

My eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, 'you can't tell me that'? I've just been slapped four times in the same day, thrown half way across my old house, almost strangled to death, and lost consciousness. I think I deserve to know."

He chuckled, "You're fine. We just need to get you to the hospital so they can check you out, although I'm not sure that it's necessary seeing how alive and well you look. Well, aside from the blood on your cheek, the bump on your head, and the black bruise on your neck in the shape of hands."

"Good point," I said, defeated. For the first time I noticed that Casey had a small stream of tears on her cheeks. "Casey? What's wrong?"

"I thought you were dead," she said, her voice cracking. "You were lying there on the floor, hardly breathing, and your face was so pale-" she stopped here, covering her mouth and closing her eyes.

"I'm fine Casey. I'm breathing, and besides the fact that my father just tried to kill me, I don't think I'll need too much therapy," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Casey only smiled and the paramedic let out a small laugh. "Which you and Pansy are paying for, by the way," I added, to which Casey's face contorted in confusion.

"Huh?" she said, clearly puzzled.

I, being the gentleman that I am, feel it is my duty to inform her, "If it weren't for Pansy, I would've never been suspended, in which case I wouldn't have gotten into the fight with my father, and I wouldn't have moved out. Then, were it not for you not pointing out that my idiotic self had parked right in front the house, I probably wouldn't be here. But it's not your fault," I quickly added, seeing the stricken look on her face. "I should've thought more on my escape plan when I was dropping you off," I said with a grin.

She smiled a little at this, "Who's Pansy?"

Oh, right. I haven't informed her of his real name yet. What's the name everyone else calls them again? "Uh... I don't know his name. He's the guy I beat up," I said, pulling a confused look.

"Oh, you mean Mitch?"

"Ah, so that's what his name is. I just call him Pansy," I said, earning a giggle from her. I smiled at my triumph. Then it quickly dropped, "What about the kids? Did Nora get them? Is Marti okay?"

"They're fine. Mom got them out when the police took George in. They were a little shaken up, and Marti wanted to see you, but Nora said that they'd go to the hospital in the car to see you," Casey said.

"Okay," I said. About five seconds after that, we arrived at the hospital, and I had to wait awhile – did I mention that I'm a very impatient person? And that I don't like hospitals? Not a good combination. I just wanted to get out of there, but then we had to wait for Nora to get there, but that was awhile later, as the ambulance went about two times as fast as our car could ever dream of going (legally).

After the doctor checked me over, she said she'd have to stitch my cheek, which was cut not only from the force of the blow, but from the ring he was wearing. I hadn't even realized that until I thought about it.

So now I'm sitting here on this little table like thing – I've never really figured out what they're called, as I stay away from hospitals as much as possible, especially since Mom – as the doctor stitches up my cheek, and Casey, Nora, Marti, Ed, and Lizzie are all staring at me with avid interest, making me squirm, which in turn made the doctor scold me and tell me to sit still or she'll stitch my cheek to the other side of my face just to spite me.

...are they allowed to do that?

Does my skin even stretch that far?

When I voiced this aloud, she told me to shut up. Well, what can you say to that? Especially to a woman who has a needle in you face? So I did, and managed to sigh many a time before she was finally done, and I literally jumped for joy.

"Smerek, are you all better now?" Marti asked when I picked her up.

"Yep. Never better. Now let's get out of here, please," I said, already leaving towards the door, with Casey, Ed and Lizzie in tow. Nora sighed dejectedly and followed us out. I guess she's had a pretty rough day, what with her husband turning out to be a maniac who abused his kid.

"Smerek, that color of a necklace isn't pretty on you," Marti said, pointing to the bruise on my neck. Hmm, I haven't even thought about it since that paramedic pointed it out. I'll have to look at it when we get to the house.

"I'll bet," I replied, placing her in the middle seat of the car. Ed and Lizzie all climbed into the back, leaving me beside Marti and Casey in the front with Nora. I'm offended – you would at least think that she would try to ride beside me. But then I noticed that she was holding her mother's hand, to which I firmly take back my offense.

We arrived back at the house about ten minutes later, and Marti immediately ran into the house, which had been left open ever since George had dragged me into it. I sighed and slowly made my way back inside. Wow, this place is really messed up. I mean, I didn't even notice how much stuff got messed up when I was getting my beat-down. The coffee table is broken from where he lunged at me and knocked me down on it (that really, really hurt. I'm going to have back problems for days); the desk in the corner of the room beside the stairs was knocked over and slightly dented from where he threw me across the room; pencils and little odds and ends were strewn about the floor, where I'd stumbled back from the unexpected blows. This stuff is going to take a lot of money to fix. Not to mention the case money for... do I even have to say it? My pride (not to mention my body) has taken enough blows for one day, thank you very much.

"Oh, my..." Nora said, obviously a little stricken.

"Look," I started, "I'm sorry, Nora."

She looked a little taken aback at my apology, "I-it's okay, Derek."

"Whoa," Ed exclaimed when he came in and saw the mess, "he really messed this place up, didn't he?"

This earned him a smack on the head from Lizzie, making Edwin look at her with a face that clearly said: What did _I_ do? She rolled her eyes at him and went upstairs to her room (I guess; look, she went upstairs, okay? Geesh, you people are nosy) and Ed followed suit.

"Uh, I'll help clean up, okay?" I said, and began to make my way through the mess, picking up all of the things that had fallen off of, well... whatever else I had hit. She didn't say anything, just continued to stand there, that same baffled look on her face. Casey took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly before coming to help me.

About half an hour later (give or take a few minutes), the room was still a little worse for wear, but it was certainly cleaner. Nora and George's picture that they had taken shortly after they were wed is broken, there's no coffee table, and Nora will have to buy a new one – plus a desk, I guess – but it's pretty clean. Nora hasn't moved from that spot, nor has her face changed. I'm a little concerned.

"Nora? Are you gonna be okay?" I asked cautiously, coming up to her slowly. Casey is sitting on the couch, looking at her mother with a look of pure concern, but I guess she doesn't know what to do. I carefully took her hand and pulled her towards the couch. "Nora, just sit down. I'll go and... make dinner," I said, gently pushing her down on the sofa next to Casey. You'd think _I_ would be the one acting like she was, but nooo...

What to make, what to make...? Ah, screw it. I'll just make mac & cheese and get it over with. It's not like I know how to cook anything else. Well, aside from toast and cereal, but they don't count. After I put the noodles in the water, I sat down on the bar stool beside the counter and sighed. My neck _really_ hurts. Not to mention I still have that blasted headache.

I got up and found an aspirin, poured a glass of water and downed them both. The pounding in my head slowly dwindled down to nothing, and I swear, I want to go and hug the dude who came up with this stuff.

"Derek?" Casey asked as she came into the kitchen.

"Yeah?" I said quietly, trying not to talk so loudly that my headache comes back.

"What are you making?" she asked after a beat of silence.

"Well," I began, "aside from the none-existent hor'deurves, you will be enjoying a wonderful, cheesy meal: Mac & Cheese. Then for dessert, well... you're on your own," I said with a grin.

She giggled, "Okay. Sounds good," she said and kissed my cheek before heading back into the living room. Well, gee, no one likes to keep me company, now do they? Ugh.

0o

I went back to my apartment about an hour later, after feeding everyone and hugging Marti, then stealing a kiss from Casey when no one was looking. I was just about ready to collapse on my bed when I remembered that I never looked at my neck.

I slowly trudged to the bathroom and looked in the mirror that's over the sink. Dude, no wonder it hurts to talk. The bruise is almost solid black, with splashes of purple near where I assumed his palms were. My right cheek was badly bruised, although not as bad as my neck. It was more blue and purple or whatever. It also had about a two-inch long stitch diagonally dancing across my face, as if mocking me that my dad beat me up. I reached to the back of my head and cringed when I felt the giant bump there.

Yep. _This_ is my life.

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**Poor Derek. But it's okay, cos he's got Casey. ;)**

**--Enter Derek, bruised and everything, holding Casey's hand for encouragement--**

"**...um, so... this is awkward... but, do you wanna do somethin for me? Like, a personal favor? :looks down nervously: Um... could you possibly... well... could you... review... you know, just so I can know what you think?" **

**;)**


	11. Past the Places Where You Used to Turn

**A/N: **Have I told you guys lately that you rock?

Thanks for the awesome reviews! The next chapter's the last one! Batch of Dasey cookies to the person who can guess which song the title came from! (Hint: the name of the band is an oxymoron, pretty much.)

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Chapter 11: **Past the Places Where You Used to Turn**

I filed for my emancipation yesterday; they said they'd notify me when a trial was available. I don't care. I'm just glad to be rid of that man. The hearing is to be next week – for him, I mean. On child abuse charges.

Of course, with my luck, he'll be let off with parole. And I don't say that because I'm bitter (which I am), I say it because some smart-ass lawyer will somehow find out that I provoked him, causing his lashing out.

Still, I don't care. I'm kind of numb to the world right now.

My day went pretty normal – well, as normal as it can be with the constant questions from your peers about the lovely color your neck is and 'what happened?'. I had Casey there to answer questions for me when my temper rose to the point of yelling so loudly that you could hear me if you were on Pluto. Eventually, everyone got tired of my girlfriend answering them and gave up asking questions, though I received inquiring glances throughout the rest of the day.

I drove Casey home (I take the car 'cause school is about two miles away from my apartment and I'm too lazy to walk it) and dropped her off, not coming in. Casey looked a little hurt at this, but looked as if she understood. That's a good thing, because I'm not up to talking right now, and I feel that if I do – well, you just don't want me to talk right now.

So I'm here, at my apartment, laying on my bed and staring at my suddenly very interesting ceiling. I don't think I've blinked for about an hour now, judging by the prickly, dry feeling that my eyes are giving me. I've decided to make it a competition; see how long I can go without blinking. I think I've made a record. Yay me.

Crap – I just blinked. Well, now I'm bored. Oh! Maybe I can play the 'spot the creations on your ceiling' game. You know, the one where you find the little designs that come from the little dot thingies on your roof? Cool, huh? Kinda like the cloud game, or whatever it's called.

Oh, there's a rabbit... or a – chicken...?

Okay, this is lame. What the hell _happened_ to my life? I used to be – still am- the coolest guy in school! So what am I doing finding _creations_ on my _ceiling?_ Oh, to the lows have I sunk.

A buzz that rang throughout my apartment startled me out of my self-analyzing and I rose to answer it.

"Yeah?" I said, pressing the button.

"Hey. It's Casey. Buzz me up?" she said.

"Uh-huh," I replied and hit the button to unlock the door. About a minute or two later Casey came in my already unlocked door and smiled at me.

"So, how are you?" she asked, kissing my cheek and sitting down on the bar stool in the kitchenette.

I only shrugged in response and hung up her coat that she'd handed to me.

I heard her sigh, "Derek, aren't you supposed to be at work?" Oh, shit.

"What time is it?"

"5:30."

"Wanna come with me?" I said, already handing her coat to her and pulling on my own as well.

"Why not," she replied, slipping it on and following me out the door.

"Did you walk here?" I asked, suddenly remembering that Casey does not have a car, and I took the only form of transportation she had when I left. Well, besides the family car, but I'm guessing that Nora doesn't want her taking that one if something happened and she needed it. She'd probably also wonder where exactly she was going, and it would be weird if she said to my place, because, why would I tell her where I live? Nora doesn't know about us, and although Casey and I cut down on the fighting (nonexistent), we still acted as if we weren't friends.

"Yeah," she replied. We walked to the car in silence.

You know, it's really nice to have someone throughout all of this. I know I act all strong, like nothing can hurt me, but (at the risk of sounding cliché) I _do_ have feelings. And, quoting Shakespeare, 'If you prick me do I not bleed? If you tickle me do I not laugh? If you poison me do I not die? And if you wrong me shall I not revenge?' Or something like that.

I have to put up this front, if not for anyone besides myself. I don't want to seem weak, so I get angry. I keep a stoic, cool expression on my face, so no one will have the slightest clue as to what is going on on the inside of me. The first one to see through this was – believe it or not – Marti. That's why she's got this special spot (okay, she's got about 40 acres in terms of land) in my heart – adding to the fact that she's absolutely adorable. She's going to be a heart-breaker, whether she knows it or not.

Most people would like to be romantics (which Casey is slowly making me become ... Okay, so not so very slowly) and say that 'Oh, Casey broke through the barriers of your stone-cold heart with her Cupid's Arrow.'

Hmm... that would be a no.

Anyway, so about fifteen minutes and a lecture about time from my boss, I was slaving away taking orders from unruly diners who kept trying to hit on Casey, who was sitting in a corner booth where I was going to take my break.

I just kept repeating to myself: _Don't abuse the customers. Don't abuse the customers. Keep the job. Don't abuse the customers. Just _don't_ do it._

Oi, this is one of the hardest things I've ever done.

One word (okay, words) of advice to all you guys out there: Never take your girl to your workplace. 'S'not a good idea.

It was finally time for my break and I eagerly went over to Casey's table with two hamburgers and fries. She smiled gratefully at me before diving in.

In response to my amused gaze, she replied, "What? I haven't eaten since lunch and I'm absolutely _starving._"

I smirked, "Who's askin'? I didn't say anything."

We ate in a comfortable silence, just sending looks at each other in-between bites. Wow, I'm a sap. But, as I stated before, I don't care. I don't care at all.

I kind of like it, in fact.

"So, Derek, how are you _really_ doing?" she asked, putting a fry in her mouth. So much for sappy looks. She just had to bring that up.

_Keep control._

I sighed. "I'm fine, Casey. I'm just glad to be rid of him, that's all," I said with a shrug. I hope that's enough for now.

No such luck. "Derek," she began with a serious look, "don't bottle things up. I'm here. Talk to me. Casey." She took my hand, here. "Please?"

Oh, crap. She just had to add that, didn't she?

I mean, what's there to talk about? The fact that I don't have a dad? A little hardship never killed anybody. My neck is fine. I have Casey. I've Marti and Ed. Heck, I even have Nora and Lizzie, though we were never that close. Life couldn't be better.

"Derek, the truth," she said. I gave her a confused look, did I say that out loud?

"Did I say that out loud?"

She gave a half-smile, "Yeah. But even if you didn't, I can read you like a book."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Sometimes. But I just know you that well," she said with a full out smile this time. She's gloating. Ugh, she's just like me.

"Quit your bragging," I said with a small smile. The only one I'd seemed to manage that was sincere all day. The serious look came back over her face. Uh-oh, she really means it this time. I sighed heavily, "Can we talk after work? I'll drive you to school tomorrow. You can call Nora and tell her you're staying at Emily's or whatever." Work is not the place to discuss these matters.

0o

"How did things get so bad?" I asked Casey as I absentmindedly stroked her long brown hair. It's like therapy for my hand or something, I swear. I catch myself doing it all the time and it seems to make me feel better.

"I don't know, Derek. I don't know..." she replied.

I don't think anyone knows.

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**Poor Derek and his unknowing self. Unfortunately, he and Casey couldn't make an appearance to ask for reviews, so they sent Marti here this time. **

**"Hey guys! My Smerek really wants to feel your support! We gotta let him know we love him! And then we can play dress-up! Press the button!"**

**Aw, ain't she a doll? ;)**


	12. Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head

**A/N: **Woo, so, here's the final chapter! You guys have been fantastic, really. Thank you so much for all your reviews! Enjoy!

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Chapter 12: **Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head**

Have I ever mentioned that I love the rain? 'Cause, if I haven't, then I'll tell you now: I love rain.

Everyone loves snow, but almost everyone I come across seems to hate the rain, and I have no idea why. Well, aside from the fact that it can cause major flooding – but we just won't think about that, will we?

I mean, rain helps with crops, nourishes the ground, trees, plants... And it's fun to run around in.

I'll admit it: I'm a five year old at heart. _Marti_ is older than I am. Doesn't that explain a lot?

So, anywho, I'm standing here, in the rain, in front of my old house. I was granted my emancipation years ago, and Dad – _George_ – was let go with parole and I now have a restraining order against him.

And you know what else rain does?

It cleans.

Cleans the wounds on a little kid's skinned knee. Cleans the dirt from the front porch. Cleanses the broken soul of a boy whose father doesn't love him anymore.

As Casey comes to stand beside me, she takes my hand and smiles up at me. I smile back and then turn my eyes back to where my old room was.

"Derek, we have to leave." _You have to let go._

That's what she's really saying, but I try to ignore her. I mean, I spent the first sixteen years of my life in this house. There were a lot of good memories, but there was also one too many bad ones.

"Why?" _It's so hard._

I mean, it's not I couldn't just walk away right now. I can do it like that! - insert snap here- But, he's my _dad_. Aside from that one time, and all those verbal wars, he was a really good father to me. And, if not me, then Ed and Marti.

"Because if you don't, you can never move on. You'll never be able to be whole again."

Double meaning: _none._

"All things about my dad aside, this was my home. I grew up here. Your mother is selling it. My house, Casey. My mom died in this house. How could she ever sell it?"

"You know why, Derek. She couldn't keep the whole thing up and running by herself, what with me living with you and Edwin and Lizzie off at college. It's not like Marti can do anything. She's too busy with her friends and Mom says that she doesn't want to make her work until she's at least fifteen."

Oh, did I forget to mention? They all know about me and Casey now. They found out when Ed came to visit me one time and he caught us on the couch making out. It just kind of leaked out from there. Nora was, if you will, a little crazy. Ever since 'the incident', she hasn't been in good shape. I guess that's another reason why she's selling the house, but, common, it's not like George was that great of a guy. He wasn't perfect – _at all._

Eventually, however, Nora accepted the two of us. Not only because she and George were no longer married, but she saw how happy Casey was with me (_me!!_). Ed and Lizzie were fine, and, believe it or not, but the little sneakers had been doing some hand-holdin themselves! Mmm...

So, this has been my story. Correction: Mine and Casey's story.

"I know." I sighed deeply, like I was finally letting out everything and letting go. There were a few beats of silence before I spoke again, "Hey Casey?"

"Yeah?"

I let go of her hand and turned to her, "Tag! You're it!" Poking her in the shoulder, I ran and tried my hardest to not slip on the muddy ground.

But, alas, it was in vain. For I slipped and Casey, being "Klutzilla," tripped and landed right on top of me. "Oof!" was grunted by the both of us at the same time, making us laugh and wince.

Casey rolled off of me, and I flipped over to half cover her with my body. "Hey, babe."

She smiled, "Hey."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

_And they lived happily ever after..._

Well, aside from crummy bosses and expired milk, anyway.

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**Hehe, sorry. Couldn't resist a cheesy ending! Let's give the review button one final run, eh?  
**


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